Devil in Disguise
by Thegirlwhoneverforgot
Summary: first constantine fic! Tag to "Saint of Last Resort" episode part 2.Logic where "demons heal flesh wounds and not bullets" so please enjoy the humor too.
1. Chapter 1

Devil in Disguise

 **Hello ya'll! So guess what? A NEW FANDOM! Yes, I am NOT sticking with my plans of coming out with my other stories, I simply am not inspired at the moment. BUT HERE IS SOMETHING THAT REALLY** **,** **REALLY INSPIRED ME! A NEW FRIGGIN FANDOM! Ya'll know that awesome episode in Arrow season 4 when a certain someone was raised from the dead by another certain someone that has nickname of "Hellblazer"? That's right ya'll! CONSTANTINE! By the way, the appearance of Constantine on Arrow spiked views and all that jazz. HIS SHOW DESERVES TO BE CONTINUED. I have already watched over half of the 1** **st** **season *the only season before it was cancelled by NBC* *tears*, and I just finished two part episode with Saint Annie? Whatever that episode was called, I am writing a tag fic. Because Annie was not-so-Saint-like and when the demon healed John after possessing him, all the while I'm like: HELLO? YOU CAN HEAL A FLESH WOUND BUT YOU CAN'T EXACTLY JUST "POOF" A BULLET. So, my idea of what happened after John had his moping shot in the mill house and some REALISTIC ideas of what happened after you've been exorcised. (I mean no one walks away from that unscarred). So, I present *yes. A whump fic*, Devil in Disguise! P.S. Will contain flashbacks of the two part episodes. (I own nothing. But hopefully CW will soon own Constantine. *bittersweet tears*).**

John was spent more than usual. He had a bloody demon knockin' around inside him for the past couple of days, he had been under the world's greatest high and he had been shot. He stood by the stairway, finally processing everything that had happened. He had been shot, and if he recalled; there had been no exit wound. In the moments when he was in control of the demon, he knew he felt… off. Other than a powerful demon trying to suppress your mind, his body, physically, felt completely off. He glanced at the bed that he had lay on hours earlier, twisting and writhing in an unforgettable demonic possessive state. He was putting it lightly.

 _Glass shattering. Lights flickering. Annie screaming. Chas yelling. Zed bossing. The force of the demon inside him that had surfaced seemed like it couldn't even be contained in his battered body. Spiteful words from a foaming mouth directed to the only friends in the world. He felt the demon gain control of his mind, but he could see, hear, and feel everything. Pain etched across his body as the demon was tormented with more holy water, but it hurt both souls. Green lights flashing. Pain. Screaming._

John shook his head pulling out of the flashback. He had remembered every bit of it. He looked around for Zed who was picking up bits of broken glass off the floor. He sighed and started for the kitchen. He needed something to drink… at least something cold. He leaned against the sink and splashed water on his face. That felt better. He pat his face dry and stood up again, and then room started to spin. He blinked, managing to get himself to the bar stool. His ears rung, the room spun and he felt hot again. He laid his head onto the cool counter, taking deep breaths. Aftershocks of having a demon exorcised? When he felt better, and the ringing stopped and the room stopped spinning, he sat up again. Maybe he'll just go lay down. He stood when a sharp pain erupted in his side. He hissed which turned into a short broken cry, keeling over, trying to suppress the pain.

"John?!" a voice called worriedly. There was shouting. Another sharp stab of pain and he was on the floor. Another stab of pain brought back a memory.

 _The gun erupted with a crack and the pain that came a split-second later forced him onto the ground and in the dirty water. The cries of the creature drawing nearer and the figure of Annie falling further._

He gasped, taking as many deep breaths as he possibly could. Damn the pain! Couldn't he have a bloody break after all that he'd been through the past couple of days? He saw Chas and Zed in his line of vision. They were asking him questions but he couldn't hear them as adrenaline rushed in his ears and another wave of pain overtook him.

 _He ripped open his shirt, trying to peer at the wound that was bleeding immensely in his side. The demon. He cast the demon inside him. It saved him from the creature. Manny was nearby._

" _John…" John peered at the wound on his side to find it was gone._

" _It healed me," he muttered._

" _Of course it healed you!" Manny exclaimed, "It needs a living host!"_

John came through with another groan. "Bollocks!" he managed through gritted teeth.

"John, what's the matter?" Chas asked in his even tone, being firm in the situation.

"It's the damn bullet!" John cried as the pain increased. "The demon might have healed the wounds but it doesn't mean it could rid of the bloody bullet!"

"Help me get him to the bed," Chas ordered and Zed helped him carry John. He gripped the mattress, doing his best to hold still. Stars danced in his vision and the room felt hot. But slowly, the pain eased a little.

"You're saying the bullet's still inside you," Zed concluded, when John was quieter. John rubbed his side wincing.

"Yes, love."

Zed sighed, sitting down. Chas walked around the bed and prodded John's side.

"Ow! Bollocks! Chas!"

"Yeah, it's there," he confirmed with a heavy sigh. John's head plunked on the mattress, uttering a few ungodly words. He swallowed back the urge to wretch. He was just so bloody tired… Chas sighed.

"Zed," Chas instructed, "Go get the alcohol, the med kit, some bandages and a rag." Zed looked up at him seriously.

"You've got to be joking," she panned. Chas shook his head.

"We gotta stay low, especially John. Considering the murder rampages that the demon caused in Mexico, they'll be on the lookout for us, but John can't wait. The bullet could be causing much more internal damage than what we realize." Zed took a good look at John, splayed out on the bed, eyes closed. Without another word, she left the room to gather the supplies. Chas sat by the bed.

"Do you want to go on another high or something?" he asked quietly. John laughed a little.

"Nah, I don't," he sighed, "I'm in one hell of a ride recovering from the last one. I'll be fine, awake."

"You're spent, my friend," Chas noted, "At least try and sleep a little while we prepare." John still chuckled a little.

"It's not like we have a room full of hospital grade medical equipment, mate," John added breathlessly. Zed came in.

"You guys, I found a room full of hospital grade medical equipment," she said with some hope. John and Chas looked from Zed to each other.

"Well that up-hands my faith in the back of the head," John said sarcastically, biting back a groan as he tried sitting up. Chas stopped him.

"What was in there?" he asked. Zed shrugged.

"There's no bed, and no painkillers, but there was an oxygen mask, defilibrators, some sharp looking tools in there. Oh, there were also some oxygen cans, ah, some IV equipment… I think I saw a heart monitor in there…" Chas stood.

"I'll come look," he said. He turned to John, "Stay here." John laughed spitefully.

"Oh, you might have to strap me down, I feel like running a marathon." Chas rolled his eyes and left the room with Zed. John laid his head down again, completely still and really tired.

* * *

Chas stepped in the room the Zed gestured to. He looked around, it was quite small, and quite bare.

"You need to redefine your definition of 'full'," he noted as he stepped over items in the small 9 by 9 foot room. There was a small lightbulb that hung in the room that, even though small, light the whole room. Chas picked out the IV pole and line, an oxygen can and the oxygen mask. He passed them to Zed who set them in the hallway.

"You sure this is all we need?" she asked. Chas shrugged.

"This isn't our first deal with bullets," he said. "This is more than enough."

"I don't want to hear any of those stories," Zed muttered, closing the door when Chas came out. He held out a scalpel. Her eyes widened.

"This is just a slightly different story," Chas muttered.

* * *

John waited and waited for Chas and Zed to return, and his mind decided to take a time trip.

 _Walking in and finding Zed sitting there, almost like nothing was wrong, made the demon angry. He could feel it, but he, John Constantine, felt a mix of slight relief, fear, and a dash of joy. These sudden emotions upset the demon, and the pain and rage that followed shook John. He collapsed on the couch clutching his chest like that was the only way to hold together. A fear gripped his heart; he didn't want to hurt her._

" _John."_

"John."

He blinked, opening his eyes to Zed and Chas. He swallowed, trying to clear his throat.

"Can I still have a drink?" he asked, hinting a demand. Zed passed him a glass she had already made, he nodded his thanks and drank it all in one swallow. His head was back on the mattress and his eyelids were starting to pull down in sleepy burden. He tried his best to fight it. Why was everything darkening? What was happening? He needed to fight. He struggled to sit up but something pushed him down. "That…" he slurred, "That's a powerful drink." Zed raised an orange bottle within his line of vision.

"Sleeping meds," she confirmed, "You'll be fine." John couldn't reply as his conscience was pulled into darkness. His last thought had something to do with along the lines of _"damn bloody traitor"._

* * *

Zed sat down in an arm chair with a sigh. She poured herself a glass of water as she sank into the cushions, pulling up a blanket. The whole… procedure… was surprisingly smooth. There was a point where John struggled to breathe and Chas had her pull out the oxygen mask but other than that, no complication. Chas had moved John to the couch and had taken the bloody sheets to the trash. The rickety bed was shoved aside in the corner.

John friggin' Constantine. The guy that had to get shot by a nun, left for dead, possessed by a king demon, fought Mexican police, rode the world's largest high and still protected his friends and finished the job that had originally been intended was now passed out on the couch in a weak fit. There were nightmares. Zed could tell, she had intended to channel John's energy to try to understand him while Chas was absent. There was a girl. There was a monster... Her head had started to pound and she called it quits before anything had gotten out of hand. So there she was, enjoying a drink by the fireplace, next to an out-of-commission exorcist that had just been recently exorcised. Oh the irony.

Chase came downstairs just then and grabbed himself a drink. "This has been a very long week," he muttered before taking a drink. Zed only nodded. Her gaze was fixed on John. He still had a sickly pale shade on his face, sweat beaded on his forehead. Zed grabbed the bowl of cool water and the rag and dabbed lightly at his forehead. His eye flickered under closed lids. He took a shuddering breath as if from pain and then stilled. She checked his pulse. It was racing but he was okay. Carefully, she laid her head on his chest for a moment, eyes closed, trying to find some sort of peace. She knew how well John could have fought the sleeping drugs, but maybe the drugs were in fact for her reassurance more than John's. A hand twitched ever so slightly on the blanket, a groan ensued a moment later. Zed lifted her head. Silence followed.

"Is he waking up?" Chas shook his head.

"No," he said, "The sleeping meds have worn off now. I'd also say that he's starting to feel the effects of the bullet. He'll wake soon enough." There was a silence. The demonologist's shuddering sigh was sound in the room. Zed and Chas waited in baited breath. John groaned, his eyes fluttering. His hand immediately slid to his side. Chas walked over and stood in front of John, watching with a steady gaze. John shifted and turned his head slightly, his eyes scrunching, then finally fluttering open to the world that waited for him.

* * *

Bad dreams were… bad. It was something like _he/she-left-forgot-their-pants-and-went-to-_ school or _their-teeth-are-falling-out-in-front-of-everyone_ or the classic _sitting-on-a-toilet-in-the-middle-of-public._ You'd get the feeling of "Why is this happening to me?" but in the end; you wake up with a shiver and can almost laugh at the absurdity of it. But nightmares were worse. Nightmares were when you knew you were in one but you couldn't escape. You couldn't control what was happening. When you wake up, it's a cold-sweat, blood-shot eyes, startled jump in the night, gasping for breath. You remember ever damn thing down to the texture of someone's shirt and the memory doesn't ever go away. It leaves you happier that you're awake and fearful of sleep. And John knew he was having a nightmare. The moment he had stepped into Astrid's house, he could tell it was the beginning of a nightmare. But then they never stopped. Newcastle always repeated itself in his head. Like now.

He fought those sleeping pills with everything he had. He didn't want to go back to his mind. He didn't want to delve into those nightmares. He never wanted to think about those and he didn't want to understand the doors and the things that had cluttered in his mind.

But there before him were his nightmares. Newcastle. Astrid. The demon. The anguished cries of Astrid's parents and their curses. A fury whipped around him as Astrid clung on to him and he held on to her trying to stop the demon.

In the flashes of light around him there was a figure. Clearer and sharper with every appearance. A woman. Zed. She appeared beside him with sorrow and grief on her face as she looked at him and Astrid. The pull of the demon became stronger and John didn't know what to do know. He needed to save and protect Astrid and Zed. Bollocks, this is a nightmare though. The demon roared and Zed clutched at her head in sudden pain, kneeling to the ground.

"Zed!" he shouted. She looked at him in astonishment and pain, flickered and disappeared. Astrid screamed.

"John!" she cried, tears streaming down her smooth cheeks. John held her stronger.

"I've got you! I've got you! I promise I've got you!" he yelled, a tear threatening to spill. He looked at the demon dead in the eye. "You can't have her! Be gone! Leave!" The wind rushed then stilled. The lights flashed one last time and pull lessened and then disappeared. Astrid's screams died down and she pulled away looking around. The demon left. It was gone. John couldn't believe it. Was his conscience clear now? He knelt by Astrid. "I told you it'd be okay," he assured. He went to take her hand to lead her home when she pulled away.

"Oh John," she said, slightly pitiful, slightly taunting, "Did you really think it'd be that easy? John, you couldn't save me, and that doesn't go unpunished." The wind started picking up again. He looked around and a door opened with bright light pouring out. It was back.

"Astrid," he pleaded, taking her hand and pulling her close despite the fact she made no move to do so, "I promised you I'd save you. I promised. I'm keeping that promise." There was a biting, stabbing pain in his side and he gasped, looking down to see blood. He exhaled raggedly, choking back a sob. "Astrid…" He looked up at the girl who had stepped back. Her expression was blank.

"See you in hell, John," she said. The demon grabbed and she screamed that still shot of fear frozen on her face as the bright light consumed them. Then everything was dark and he was falling. Air rushing and his heart pumping in fear. Oh, bloody hell no. He felt heat lick as he collided with something firm. Ground. He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes to the orange glow that danced on cavern like walls. He was in a larger room that domed with a little hole for the smoke of the fire to escape through. The fire itself blazed with heat that stung his eyes and erupted from a large pit in the middle of the room as if he wasn't far down already. Screams were heard near and far. Polaroid pictures of John's whole life were posted on the walls with scribbles of dates and moments and labels. John's face was crossed out in red in every single one of them. Faces that John knew, kinda remembered and had completely forgot had floated into his line of vision and became overwhelming with voices.

 _Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare._ "John!" A voice screamed. John scrambled to his feet. He knew exactly where he was. The adrenaline in his system gave him a rush of hope. Astrid was here. He could still see her. Say he was sorry. Better yet, get her out. He ran to the only door in the room and threw his shoulder into it. The door cracked and splintered on impact and he went barreling through into a hallway. John sighed, swallowing. He looked left and right and saw doors and windows and cells leading on and on down each way. Another scream from Astrid to his left set him starting down the hallway. Hands reached out, souls spit at him, others tried to bite at him, and others just wailed. A bottle flew out of one of the cages and caught John in the jaw. He clutched his face gritting in pain as he tried to dust off the flecks of glass off his face. He turned and looked into the cell and was half surprised to see what he saw.

His father. The drunk bastard made it to hell. Well that's an impressive step. John swallowed. He'd never be ready to face his father again after he walked out. His father was never a father to him, he was just some drunk bastard who managed to spawn an offspring. He understood his father was happy with his wife. Life was too perfect until John came around and "murdered his mother". John took a step to keep continuing when the man decided to speak.

"About time," his father drawled. John flinched. He turned to face the man that sat in the cell.

"Sorry," he said spitefully, "Visiting hours end soon and I'm on a tight schedule."

"Don't think that you're so special that you could get out of here," his father hissed. "It's not like anyone cares about you anyway." John contemplated for a moment, biting back words of anger.

"Have a good rest of eternity down here," he said instead, turning away, walking down the hall.

"John!" his father yelled, getting to the bars, "Don't you dare turn your back on me when I'm speaking! John! John!"

"John?" Astrid called. John took off in a run, shutting out the screams, curses, and wails as he made his way to one voice. The hallway he ran down stretched and morphed, growing, shrinking, thinning. It all messed with John's head and he stumbled, falling to the ground. Astrid's crying and screaming was heard somewhere in the chaos. The shadows in the corners stretched and grew, consuming him.

 _It's a nightmare. It's a nightmare. It's just a nightmare._

" _He should be waking soon," a distorted deep voice said._ Chas? It was Chas! Waking? Of course, because he was in a nightmare! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

The room didn't feel as hot, in fact, it felt colder on his sweaty, heated skin. There was a burden on his chest. He couldn't see anymore. Any signs of a hallway or Hell was gone. He was in total darkness. His eyes closed, blind to the darkness in front of him. He heard the crackling of a fire. A good fire. One in a hearth at home, not like the roaring pit in his dream. Sore pain radiated from his side mostly and his body ached. He took a deep breath through his nose and no longer smelled sulfur, but the familiar dusty air of the mill house. The weight on his chest lifted, but he almost wanted it pull of gravity told him he was laying down on his back, he turned his head to the left scrunching his eyes tighter as the orange glow became brighter. He turned his head the other way, and decided to open his eyes. It was like something was keeping them down, but after several tries, he managed to get them open. He was gazing at the ceiling for a moment when pain overcame him for a second. He gasped, choking a little and liberated a soft groan. His body finally feeling the abuse he had taken over the past couple days.

A hand was laid on his shoulder and John looked and saw his friends for the first time. Zed had her hand on his shoulder and Chas stood behind her with a smug grin on his face. John swallowed in an attempt to rid of his dry throat.

"Not goin' anyway," he said, patting the hand on his shoulder, "Promise." Zed smirked.

"Uh oh, he just made a promise," Zed joked, "I think Chas messed with a wire or something." Chas chuckled a little behind her.

"Don't do that again," he said.

"Don't let a nun take a gun," John retorted in a raspy dry voice, but there was still play. Zed let go of his shoulder and disappeared from his line of sight. "So I take from the fact I'm breathin' that it went okay?" Chas shrugged.

"You could barely breathe at one moment," he said. "Had to put that oxygen mask on you for a bit." John tried to crane his neck to see.

"Please tell me you cleaned it out before you put it on my face," he said.

"Of course we did, John."

"Is Zed alright?" he asked. Chas shrugged.

"I think she's doing fine actually," he said. "She entered your dream." John sat up, hissing a bit.

"She did what?!" he said loudly. Chas nodded, calm.

"I was coming in from taking out… trash and she was knelt by your side, and she touched your hand and I could tell she had entered your dream."

"Why didn't you stop her?!" John voiced particularly enunciating each word. Chas watched him closely.

"She pulled back a moment later, she rubbed her head a little and she sat down," he said, "She's learning to handle it at least." John was silent, obviously sorting out his anger. He completely forgot how to speak when Zed came back in and tossed him another orange pill bottle.

"Pain killers," she added, as he looked at her warily. "I found them and checked the expiration date; they're still good." John said nothing as he popped open the bottle and took a few. He took the glass of water that was sitting on the table next to him and took a large drink.

"Zed," John breathed, when everything was still. She looked at him from her chair. He was lying flat on the couch. Chas was in the kitchen preparing a snack because god knew what time it was, but they were all a little hungry. She didn't realize that she hadn't answered when he called again. "Zed."

"Yes, John?" she answered.

"Have you been practicin'?" he asked. And by that, she already knew what he meant. But did he know about her in his dream?

"I try here or there, and when my head pounds, I pull out," she answered smoothly. John was silent for a minute. She could see his studying gaze on the ceiling. He then ripped off the blanket and pulled himself up, groaning as he put himself into a strenuous position. "John, what are you doing?" she scolded with a sigh, standing up. He remained in a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the couch to look at her.

"You were in my nightmare, Zed," he said. Zed ignored the fact that John said nightmare and not dream. Joh carefully enunciated his next sentence. "Did. You. Enter. My. Dream?" Zed's eyes stung a little, she almost felt ashamed. She swallowed but stiffened as she answered.

"Yes."

John nodded, taking a deep breath as he pulled himself to a standing position. Zed tried to object. "John, you need to lay down." John shook her off.

"I am," he said defiantly, heading for the stairs. "I'm just going to do it in my own privacy." Zed sighed as Chas came out to observe. John disappeared down the hallway upstairs leaving the other two alone. Zed felt her heart ache. She really didn't mean to offend him. Heck, he didn't even let her apologize. Just a wave of his hand and a few snarky British remarks and he was off, another brick added to that miserable man's wall. She looked at Chas with sad eyes. The regret glistened in tears.

"I didn't…" Chas stopped her.

"Child," he said carefully, "There are things I don't understand with John. I think this was a whole confusion. He probably just intends for you to grow your gifts but not use him for practice." Zed wanted to argue but Chas stopped her again. "It's what it looks like from a first look, so please understand. John's also an idiot because he never gives clear concise instruction. Also, the fact that he's injured probably means he's uncomfortable, and more heavily guarded with his emotions since he's not so guarded physically. The idiots going to get himself killed cause he can't trust us."

"I didn't mean to offend him like that. He completely pushed away because I invaded his personal thoughts."

"His nightmares. But you were also worried for him, so you wanted to see if you could help. I think John sees that slightly but doesn't want the help."

"He'd rather die than except help." Chas nodded.

"Even the devil knows it."

From upstairs, John sighed and turned around, taking careful steps to his room. He opened his door softly and crept to his bed. He lay his aching body down, clutching at his side as it protested the movements. As his body fell into blissful sleep, a thought tickled his mind.

 _Maybe his friends were crazy enough to walk his path with him._

* * *

 ***air highfive* Hello everyone! It's thegirlwhoneverforgot! And yes I have been watching jacksepticeye on youtube! Anyway welcome to my new fandom of Constantine! Woohoo! *devil grabs me* AHHH! Back away you little s***!**

 **So! This story is two parts! The next part is coming out and I am sorry to say this but I am not sticking to my announcements at all! You know what, Sorry I'm not Sorry! Fandoms happen and I write what my fingers urge me to write. And much to my dismay they also made me finish my Jill Frost series. Was not fun. But I only did it for mini Jillian crossover adventures! Yeah! Small tiny series! Like ah, Dear Fanfiction writers! Except this is Jill *she denounces the last name* and her journey all over the world other worlds, dimensions, time, space, and realms meeting characters in every which universe! You got BBC, DC, MARVEL, NBC, ABC, SYFY, All that beautiful crap called television! Yay! So, little shots where Jill collides with characters in the ULTIMATE CROSSOVER. So yes there is that. And I have completely gotten off track! I've also been introduced to "Guardians of the Galaxy!" Have a little story coming out from that too. AND THEN THERE IS LAB RATS**

 **AND I AM SO NOT SORRY THAT I HAVE NOT POSTED ANY STORIES FOR THOSE. I GET PM'S ALL THE TIME NOW WITH PEOPLE ASKING ME WHEN IM POSTING AND I SWEAR, IT JUST HAPPENS THAT I CANNOT WRITE. BUT I WILL REWATCH CERTAIN EPISODES THAT HAD STUNNING OPPORTUNITIES FOR WHUMP *ahem. Mightmeds* *ahem* *Actionbionichero* AND I WILL GET REINSPIRED.**

 **BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR CROSSOVERS! I AM TEMPTED TO WRITE A CONSTANTINE/SUPERNATURAL CROSSOVER OR CONSTANTINE/DOCTORWHO (For you lovers out there). HOW ABOUT A SUPERNATURAL/LAB RATS? HAH? WADYA THINK? LET ME KNOW YOU WANT ME TO WRITE CROSSOVERS ABOUT. ALL THE FANDOMS I AM IN ARE ON MY PROFILE PAGE. IF YOU DON'T SEE A FANDOM BUT WANT ME TO WRITE ASK, AND I'LL CONSIDER. I don't know myself well enough to write down every freaking crossover, which reminds me I need to add Real Steel and GOTG. So that is it! Adios!**

 **Thegirlwhoneverforgot**

 **(Penname change pending. Please submit suggestions)**


	2. Chapter 2

Devil in Disguise Part 2

 **Hiya everyone and welcome back to CONSTANINE! This is part 2 of my D.I.D book! So, this is a recovery chapter and I think that's it for this story. I knooooow. I need to have a longer story. I will do that! Been thinking… more Doctor Who? Supernatural? Sherlock? Lab Rats? I don't know! Anyway, hope ya'll are enjoying this story and let's finish up Devil in Disguise! I own nothing.**

When John disappeared up the staircase, it was only several hours later that Chas and Zed thought something might be wrong. Without a word, Chas walked up the stairs. An ache grew in the pit of his gut as the silence of the hallway greeted him. He walked slowly, floorboards creaking under his weight. He could hear his breath as he made his way towards the door to John's room.

"John?" he called out once, knocking on the door. No answer. Chas groped the rusty handle and turned it, the bolt sliding out of the door frame. He pushed lightly on the door and it creaked with the slow movement. He peered into the dark room, a single lamp lighting the room. John was laid out on his bed, entangled in sheets. His shirt had been tossed haphazardly onto a chair next to the bed and it seemed that he came in and just lay down. He probably didn't even take off his shoes. Chas caught sight of something on the floor. A single pair of leather-man shoes. Yes, he took off his shoes. Chas crept in to see if John was even breathing. A slight groan that came signaled he was alive but not so well. It also signaled the pain and the vulnerability that was supposed to stay hidden behind the door.

Chas stood by the bedside, checking over John to look for anything else wrong. The sheets came up to right above John's waist, and the bandages peeked out from under the covers. Sweat glistened on the exposed skin from pain and stressful nightmares. Chas sighed. Wake or sleep, drunk or sober, the nightmares always plagued John. Chas silently left the bedroom and quickly went downstairs to grab some water and some pain meds he had found. He passed Zed without a word and slipped upstairs again into John's room. He set the pills and the glass of water on the nightstand then quietly left.

* * *

Over the past couple hours; Zed was trying to deal with her emotions. She had no intention to hurt John or offend him and yet his been completely set off. John disappears up the stairs with a few calm yet painful words and no apology or consideration of even hearing hears. She set her empty glass down on the coffee table. She'll just have to corner him and make it quick knowing how John was like a cat in a bath when it came to deep talks.

She sighed. She had already forgiven herself of the matter, but would he forgive her?

* * *

John woke with a jolt and pain from the most recent nightmare. His eyes finally adjusted to seeing what was in the room. He rubbed his face and pulled the covers off, more gently as his side ached from discomfort. He caught sight of the water and pills on the side table and eyed them carefully. Knowing he was back in the millhouse and if he on drug overdose, someone would figure it out soon enough so he took out two and drained the glass of water.

He didn't bother with his shoes but put his shirt back on and made his way out the door. Sore, tired and achy was what he felt but he a need for a drink overpowered them all and motivated his steps towards the staircase. He came down the steps, gripped the railing and leaning on it more than he wanted but anything to get down those bloody steps. Not even a sound could be heard from his bare feet as they touched the cool metal. Only the slight sound of fabric rubbed against iron indicated he was coming down the stairs. That and the occasional hiss of pain. He got down the stairs and ignored the movement of curly hair looking in his directions. He sat down at the kitchen table head in his hands.

"Zed, what happened to the bloody alcohol?" he called out, voice slightly muffled in his arms.

"The drinks you aren't going to have until you're off pain meds?" she asked innocently. John groaned through irritation and pain. He looked up at her and saw her still sitting on the couch reading a book. He sighed and resolved to grab himself some bland, disgusting water. After grabbing a glass, he gingerly sat down in a comfy chair by the crackling fire. He stared at it for a while, thinking about his dream. "Lost your shoes?" Zed asked casually. John didn't look away from the fire but smirked.

"In the sheets," he commented before taking a sip of the bland drink. There was a silence as there was a one sided tension. Zed became more uncomfortable sitting there with her book half open in her lap. She picked up her book hoping to get back into it. John's silence proved his anxiety too. He cleared his throat and stood slowly, setting down his barely touched glass. "Goin' out for a smoke," he muttered, heading for the stairs when Zed suddenly stood.

"John, I'm sorry," she said. Holding her fingers together in apprehension. John looked at her with that glint in his eyes, the very small upturn of the corner of his mouth barely even a smirk. It was the _observing-while-contemplating-and-secretly-building-my-walls_ face. Zed was fine with that, but she wanted to know if she was forgiven or not.

"It's a'right," he said matter-o-factly, continuing for the stairs, "Just don't do it again, luv." Something in his voice told her he was okay and to move on and drop it because there really was no fuss over the situation. Zed smiled her small smile and sat down again to enjoy a drink and her book. John peered over the railing just a little bit, looking down on her from above. "Dear, where's Chas?" Zed looked up.

"He went home an hour ago," she said. "Geraldine was becoming a fuss. He was the one who ordered no drinks with your meds." John nodded with a slight grumble and went to his room to put on his shoes and his jacket. He came out five minutes later, patting the coat down and searching his pockets. He came downstairs again despite his exhaustion and continued his search in the laundry.

"Luv…" he trailed as he went through a pair of pants, "What happened to my cigs?" Zed watched him devily innocently as he rummaged around.

"Oh," she said, taking a sip of her drink, "Forgot to mention that Chas also said, and I quote, 'Good luck finding your mini death sentences until tomorrow'." John stared for a minute.

"He bloody didn't."

"I guess he did." John searched a bit more. An idea struck him. He went to the bookshelves and pulled out some books then a small box. A small smirk on his face, showing off his pride.

"Well, it's not like he would know where ALL my… BLOODY HELL HE DID!" John dashed back to his coat and pulled out his cell. He continued to search through things as the phone dialed. "HE TOOK MY BLOODY LIGHTER!" he half shrieked as Chas answered. Zed was pretending to still be interested in her book. "CHAS!"

* * *

After the whole conversation with Chas, John retreated to his bedroom again. Even Zed's suggestion of the meditative garden that she liked to retreat to didn't appeal to him. But then again, that was typical. After another long silence, Zed resolved to check on him, because it wasn't this long that the demonologist was this quiet. She crept upstairs and peered through the door. John was asleep again, laid across his bed on top of the sheets, shoes still on and the only thing that managed to be discarded was the shirt. Zed closed the door again and went downstairs to start a new book.

* * *

When Chas showed up the next day, John was up and demanding for the rolls of tobacco. You couldn't tell that anything bad had happened to him unless if he bent over for something. It was obvious he was hiding how he felt, no one gets shot then gets over it, but John was persistent. Anything for a drink and a smoke at that point.

He slept a lot, despite the nightmares. He would fall asleep anywhere; in the middle of reading a mythology book, sitting by the fire (he wouldn't even need a drink); most of the time when he'd sit down he was down and out in the next five minutes. But then he'd always wake up from a nightmare. Sometimes it was a quiet little snap of the eyes with a short gasp and sometimes, he would jump, sweating and catching the shout that would try to escape his lips. Zed witnessed them all.

About a week and a half after Mexico, Zed caught John asleep over studying the map. A small glass of alcohol sat dry by his outstretched hand. His head lay on top of the outstretched arm, and the other one still held the magnifying glass in a loose hold. He was very quiet, and very still which was a rare sight, even in his sleep for all he ever had was nightmares. Zed brushed a longer strand of his dirty blond hair out of his eyes then laid a throw of his shoulders. She pulled the magnifying glass out of his hand and set it aside. She gave him a gentle kiss on the top of his head before turning off the lamp and retreating to her bedroom for the night.

* * *

John woke the next day, hunched over the table. A blanket fell off his shoulders as he stretched to rid of a crick in his neck. He looked about him, gazing at the blanket on the floor. He inadvertedly scratched the top of his head for a moment (unaware that that was where Zed kissed him last night), and proceeded to his bedroom to freshen up and get ready for the day.

Gazing at the bullet wound that was starting to scar, John thought about the last couple weeks. Demons, creatures, nuns, and guns, and here he was, still alive, even though he was damned. He let his shirt fall, covering up the wound. He had a thought, and it was so devastating to his mind. He had to get rid of it. He had to let it out. He didn't even hear himself say it as the blood rushed to his ears in panic and adrenaline.

" _I don't want to die."_  
 ___

 **The End**

 **So! That's that for this story! I hope ya'll enjoyed this! Should I write more? What's your take on this story and my writings in the fandom. I completely forgot Chas's daughter's name, but when I remember it, I'll fix it. Till next time!**

 **thegirlwhoneverforgot**


End file.
